The Poems, Posthumous and Collected; Death's Jest-Book. the Brides' Tragedy

The Poems, Posthumous and Collected; Death's Jest-Book. the Brides' Tragedy

By (author) 

List price: US$19.99

Currently unavailable

Add to wishlist

AbeBooks may have this title (opens in new window).

Try AbeBooks

Description

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1851 edition. Excerpt: ..." We've played at kid for child, lost both; " I'd give you the limbs if I could; " Some lie in your platter of broth: " Good night, and digestion be good." Now Harpagus said not a word, Did no eye-water spill: His heart replied, for that had heard; And hearts' replies are still. How do you like it? Duke. Poetry, they say, Should be the poet's soul; and here, methinks, In every word speaks yours. Isbr. Good. Do'nt be glad too soon. Do ye think I've done? Three minutes' patience more. A cannibal of his own boy, He is a cannibal uncommon; And Harpagus, he is my joy, Because he wept not like a woman. From the old supper-giver's pole He tore the many-kingdomed mitre; To him, who cost him his son's soul, He gave it; to the Persian fighter: And quoth, " Old art thou, but a fool in blood: " If thou hast made me eat my son, " Cyrus hath ta'en his grandsire's food; " There's kid for child, and who has won? " All kingdomless is thy old head, " In which began the tyrannous fun; " Thou'rt slave to him, who should be dead: " There's kid for child, and who has won? " Now let the clock strike, let the clock strike now, And world be altered! ( The clock strikes one, and the hour is repeated from the steeples of the city.) Trusty time-piece, Thou hast struck a mighty hour, and thy work's done; For never shalt thou count a meaner one. _He dashes it on the ground. Thus let us break our old life of dull hours, And hence begin a being, counted not By minutes, but by glories and delights. (He steps to a window and throws it open. Thou steepled city, that dost lie below, Time doth demand whether thou wilt be free. Now give thine answer. (A trumpet is heard, followed by a peal of cannon. Heacons are...show more

Product details

  • Paperback | 64 pages
  • 189 x 246 x 3mm | 132g
  • Rarebooksclub.com
  • Miami Fl, United States
  • English
  • black & white illustrations
  • 1236567412
  • 9781236567413